


Things We Can Handle

by Winifred_Zachery



Category: The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types, The Avengers - Ambiguous Fandom
Genre: Aftercare, Anal Fingering, Anal Fisting, Avengers swimwear, Bruce Banner Needs a Hug, Established Relationship, Everyone Is Poly Because Avengers, Explicit Sexual Content, Fluff and Smut, Hearing-impaired Clint, M/M, Multi, OT6, Orgy, PWP without Porn, Polyamory, Praise Kink, ace natasha
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-07-27
Updated: 2016-07-27
Packaged: 2018-07-27 03:46:24
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,827
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7602127
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Winifred_Zachery/pseuds/Winifred_Zachery
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When Bruce comes home after a day full of fails all he wants is a hug. What he gets is more than he bargained for, because his lovers know how to handle their favorite physicist when he is feeling a little down.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Things We Can Handle

**Author's Note:**

> This has been rolling around my brain for a while! The Avengers are a little more than just friends in this one (my first OT6).
> 
> Natasha being ace makes sense to me, she is this incredibly strong, talented and sexy woman and everybody naturally assumes she's a sexual being. Well, not everybody is ;) And I will admit I'm not exactly comfortable with writing het...
> 
> Also: I loooove Clint Barton! My Clint is modeled after the comic book version. His character sadly was completely changed in the Avengers movies. So for this story Clint is hearing-impaired and blond.
> 
> This was again beta'd by hideme!

This isn’t one of Bruce’s better days.

He woke up way too early, even though he usually gets up earlier than anybody else. But today Tony’s scheduled some remodelling in some of the Tower’s lower floors and Bruce got woken before seven by the grating sound of metal drilling into concrete.

Of course this is in no way Tony’s fault, since he even had JARVIS inform them in advance of the maintenance. Still doesn’t change the fact that Bruce was still really tired when he climbed out of bed with a grumble.

Since he was already up he decided to go for his run early and on his way down promptly ran into Steve in running shoes and shorts. After kissing him good morning of course Steve had asked to join him and he hadn’t been able to say no.

Which he’d regretted soon. After their first brisk walk towards the park Steve had started slow - for him that is - and Bruce had barely been able to keep up. He runs several days a week, but he’s just not as good as Captain America.

So Steve had lost him after only a few minutes, even though waiting up for him several times. Bruce had simply waved him on and taken another route, not wanting to slow the Super Soldier down.

He’d jogged two half-hearted rounds around the park, his ego already a bit bruised.

Afterwards he’d hidden in his lab, working on replicating an experiment he’d tried several weeks before and failed spectacularly.

He hasn’t seen any of the others all day, hasn’t even eaten dinner in the kitchen, and all he wants is some human contact after his shitty day.

It’s late and when he asks, JARVIS informs him the team has assembled in the lounge. It’s rare that all of them have a whole weekend together, but it seems not even Natasha will be called out for a mission this time. Bruce is really looking forward to spending some time with them all. Thor has been away on Asgard too long and Tony had been away on a conference and he missed both of them.

He hears the guys laugh as soon as he steps out of the elevator and it makes him smile. Crossing the door he spots Thor and Clint first and stops, his eyes growing big.

The two men are bare-chested, only wearing swimming trunks with the most ridiculous print Bruce has ever seen.

“Tony, these are hilarious! Where on earth did you find them?” Steve asks from where he’s sitting on the couch next to the billionaire.

“Prototype merchandising,” Tony grins as he hands a bag to Steve.

“Seriously, Avengers merch?” Steve asks, dubiously inspecting a pair of trunks with some kind of steampunk feather design. “Is this supposed to be Hawkeye?” He holds the piece of cloth out for the others to admire.

“I think the designers did a pretty good job,” Clint laughs. “You should put it on. You’re finally gonna look like a tough guy!”  
“You think so?” With a smooth movement Steve divests himself of the shirt and starts working on the fly of his pants, accompanied by loud hooting from the rest of the guys.

Bruce still stands in front of the now closed elevator doors and watches. He can’t do anything but. His mouth must be hanging open, but it’s not like the others have noticed his presence yet.

Slowly Steve reveals his white briefs and lets the jeans drop to the floor. Of course Tony can’t help himself and reaches over to deliver a light smack to Steve’s ass, followed by a lewd grope that has Steve swatting at the playboy half-heartedly.

The briefs stay on and he pulls up the swimming trunks over them. They are not as loose as they should probably be. “Wrong size, but it does show off your package nicely,” Tony comments, making Steve laugh and blush just a little.

“Hey Tony, how about the girl version?” Natasha asks from where she’s folded into an armchair. “Or is this another one of those sexist ‘guys only’ campaigns?” 

Tony beams. “Of course not, dear lady!” He grabs another bag and hands it to her. All the guys watch as she pulls out a neon green bikini top and purple briefs. The look on her face turns comical. “Oh no, not really! Stark, you allowed them to produce Hulk swimwear for women?”

“Don’t worry, there is a bikini version for all of the other designs too,” Tony explains. “You should see the Black Widow trunks!”

“Seriously?”

Now it’s Tony’s turn to open the front of his pants with a dirty grin. The print he reveals beneath his fly makes the guys grin and Natasha laugh out loud. It’s a pair of shorts printed with bikini briefs and a pair of well-shaped women’s legs.

“Oh no,” Natasha protests, shaking her head vehemently but still laughing. “That is sexist and I’m vetoing them!”

“But they make my legs look great,” Tony pouts and proceeds to pull his t-shirt over his head to match the rest of the guys and treat Bruce to quite the show.

“They’re no worse than mine,” Clint interjects. He squeezed his shapely ass into something with a wing print on the back.

“Wait, is that…” Steve turns around to stare at Clint’s crotch with barely concealed curiosity.

“Yeah, a hammer just where it’s supposed to be!”

That provokes another round of laughter from everybody and Thor nearly trips over the coffee table .

“Hey Natasha, aren’t you going to model yours?” Steve asks with a wink, walking over to the redhead and sitting down on the arm of her chair. He reaches for the Hulk top and holds it up for a closer look.

“I think I’ll pass,” Natasha replies dryly, but leans up for the kiss Steve offers.

Bruce still watches from his place by the elevator.

It is a beautiful picture, seeing Natasha and Steve kiss tenderly, seeing Thor tease Clint about his winged backside, hands brushing, shoulders touching.

They’re beautiful people, all of them, the picture of health and virility, especially modelling swimsuits like that.

And he has no idea how he is supposed to walk over there now.

He doesn’t fit. He’s not fierce like Natasha, pure good like Steve, a genius in the bedroom and out like Tony, he can’t even imagine possessing the skills Clint has or Thor’s all-encompassing strength and passion for all things. He’s not like them.

His chest isn’t smooth, his abs are non-existent, his biceps are functional at best and he has no tree-trunks for thighs or a cute bubble butt.

Bruce is just a middle-aged physicist with gray hairs liberally strewn in with the brown, a tiny bit of a paunch and awkward glasses that always get in the way.

No, he doesn’t belong here and right at this moment he has got to wonder why his lovers continue humoring him when he clearly can’t compare to any of them.

Looking at the people he loves having fun, loving on each other, makes his heart ache.

It’s hard to turn away and press the button that silently opens the elevator doors. He steps inside and leans against the wall, eyes on the mirror across from him.

Oh, of course they need the Hulk and he thinks he’s a good enough friend to keep around. And Tony likes doing science with him. But as a lover there’s not much he can offer.

No, he thinks, looking at his face in the glass. They don’t really need him for that.

Nobody will notice that he’s missing from the soon-to-ensue orgy downstairs. They’ll all be too busy with each other, with Natasha watching from the armchair.

On the ride up he can’t help but think about what he’s missing. He’s been involved in many kinds of activities with his lovers, one on one or two or all of them. Bruce loves that the most, when they’re all lying on Tony’s enormous bed, so close that he can reach out for any of his teammates and simply touch.

And Bruce does, often. He’s a needy lover, once he lets himself have intimacy and enjoy the lust, and that’s probably not everybody’s thing. He wants all the touches and all the kisses and all the pleasure. But his teammates have put up with him without ever saying anything.

He’s not gonna leave. Not when he finally found a place he can call home. A place full of people he cares about, people who can hold their own against him and the Hulk.

He’s just gonna go up to his room now and take a shower and read a book and try not to think about what’s going on downstairs.

***

Bruce’s appearance and disappearance hasn’t gone as unnoticed as he’d thought. Natasha had seen him leave the elevator and so had Tony.

But instead of coming over, the physicist, still clad in his lab coat and looking a little rumpled and in need of a hug, had stood there watching them. And ultimately he’d left again.

Tony throws a disappointed look in the direction of the now closed elevator doors. He’s saved the coolest pair of shorts - red and gold print of course - for Bruce and has just been waiting for him to finally finish in the lab so they can start enjoying their long weekend together. But right now it doesn’t look like Bruce will be joining them. He’s been standing by the elevator watching for quite a while before turning around to leave.

He’d wonder about Bruce no longer being interested in them all, but he’s seen the hungry look in the other man’s eyes, watching all of them in turn.

Thor jostles him a little, trying to climb over him to get to the unopened bags on his other side, and draws him out of his musings. Tony blinks and looks up to see Natasha watching him. He gets up off the couch and saunters over to her to crouch down before her. She greets him with a quick kiss just like she did Steve and for a brief moment he wishes she’d join them in bed because she’s a beautiful woman, but he will respect her sexuality.

Also, it’s not like his bed is ever empty these days. If the Avengers are not all sharing his bed, it’s usually Bruce who is close enough to cuddle up to. They like it that way. It makes them both sleep better.

“‘D you catch that?” he asks with a nod toward the empty spot where Bruce stood moments ago.

Natasha nods. “Hard not to. He was there a while, didn’t exactly look happy.”

“Looks like somebody needs a little TLC,” he agrees. “You want some company or are you fine on your own?”

“Getting rid of all the testosterone so I can finally finish my book?” A teasing smile steals across her lips as she lifts a well-read novel from the coffee table. “Sounds fine to me!”

Tony laughs. “Admit it, you’re just waiting for Thor to leave so you can beat his high score on Mario Kart”

Her grin turns devilish. “Caught me. Now go get our man before he gets itchy feet again.”

With another innocent kiss to her cheek Tony is up on his feet. “Give us a few minutes before you kick the rest of the guys out. My bed,” he orders before disappearing in the elevator.

JARVIS tells him Bruce is holed up in his own room for a change, even though he’s taken to spending most of his time in Tony’s suite lately and even keeps some of his clothes and personal belongings there.

He doesn’t wait to knock, but barges in instead, figuring it’s always easier to ask for forgiveness later than wait for permission.

Bruce is lying on his bed, staring out of the window and across the New York skyline, but sits up immediately.

“Tony,” he protests, hand rising to his chest as if startled.

“Sorry,” he lies and walks over towards his prey. Bruce has discarded his lab coat somewhere, but his hair is still deliciously mussed. Tony licks his lips.

“Why didn’t you join us downstairs?” he asks without fanfare, sitting down on the edge of the narrow king size mattress.

Bruce shrugs. “Just figured you had your hands full already.”

Tony frowns. “I do have five fingers on each hand, so there are two for each of you.”

The other man looks down at the bed between them. He can guess what Bruce is thinking.

Another shrug is his only answer.

“We were waiting for you.”

“I bet you were at the edge of your seat with impatience,” Bruce replies and there is a hint of bitterness to his words that Tony doesn’t like. Well, he won’t let Bruce be bitter.

“Yes we were,” he confirms, leaning over to grasp Bruce’s face in his palms.

His friend and lover closes his eyes with a helpless little sigh that tells Tony just what Bruce yearns for. Well, he can give him exactly what he needs and he begins with a kiss.

Bruce’s kiss is tentative, cautious and not what Tony is used to. Usually the big guy consumes him with his kisses and Tony has watched him devour their teammates’ mouths with a hunger that amazes and delights all parties involved. Good thing he knows exactly how to push Bruce’s buttons.

Tony can’t help the smile forming against Bruce’s lips and the other man draws back with a puzzled expression.

“I saved the Iron Man shorts for you,” he explains with a grin and fingers the top button of Bruce’s shirt until it slips through its hole. “You’ll look so hot in my colors.”

A cough from the door makes both men turn their heads. “You mean he’d look totally hot in the Hawkeye speedos,” Clint states with a firm nod. He himself is no longer clad in the Thor-themed trunks, but has squeezed himself into the ridiculous Hulk-print bikini. Which is currently stretching obscenely over Clint’s front.

Tony bursts out laughing and Bruce apparently can’t help the amused snort escaping him.

Clint doesn’t pay their amusement any heed. His eyes are instead fixed to Bruce’s chest and the small glimpse of hair Tony knows is revealed by the button he’d managed to undo. Yeah, he knows exactly what that sight does to their resident bird of prey.

Right now he looks like Bruce is on his menu and that suits Tony just fine. Within seconds a plan forms in his head and once he finds a subtle way to get it across to the rest of his teammates, he’s sure they’ll be able show the big guy the time of his life.

***

Bruce had wanted some time to himself, but Tony’d unerringly found him and it’s not likely he’ll take no for an answer, the way he gets up off the bed and tries to pull Bruce with him.

“Tony, I wanted…” Bruce protests, but to no avail. It’s either release Tony’s hand and risk the other man falling and hurting himself or getting up with him and follow them to the big bed where he knows the others will be waiting.

So he stops his protests and lets Tony pull him towards Clint waiting by the door. He’s a little surprised when Tony lets go of his hand. He’s not usually so quick to relinquish his prize, but the thought quickly vanishes from his head when Clint leans in for a kiss.

Bruce doesn’t deny him. He loves being kissed and can never get enough, even though he’s probably way too greedy. But he can’t even think of pulling back from Clint’s lips, as he is suddenly boxed in by Tony at his back. Wandering hands steadily creep across his chest, opening button after button and diving inside his shirt to caress bare skin.

An involuntary moan escapes him and he can feel Clint’s answering smile against his lips. The leg sliding in between his from the front manages to press against him just right and he can’t stop the sounds that make heat creep across his face and turn his head away.

“You make the most delicious noises, Doc, Clint murmurs against his cheek.

Somehow he can’t quite believe that. He’s got Steve’s deep moans still in his ears from their last time, Tony’s shouts and Clint’s helpless gasps. No, his noises aren’t exactly the sexiest among them all.

“Don’t believe me?” It’s like Clint can read his thoughts. “Here, let me show you.”

The hand at the small of his back pushes him forward, right against an insistent hard-on. Oh.

He must have said that out loud because he can feel Tony’s hoarse chuckle ruffle the hair at the back of his neck. “Your bedroom voice goes straight to his dick,” he breathes against Bruce’s skin and it makes him shiver and lose his train of thought temporarily. Being trapped between the two men feels so good and he knows he’ll be lost as soon as Tony starts nibbling on his neck. The playboy knows all of Bruce’s weak spots and is not above using them against him.

Only he doesn’t get there just yet, because a door opens close to them and he can hear Thor call out to them to come to bed. Bruce has no willpower left to deny the request and so he follows the warm bodies that steer him towards Tony’s bed.

There he can see the thunder god kissing Steve, holding onto the Captain’s head with one hand, the other behind him, caressing his naked hip.

As soon as Bruce enters with the others, however, the pair on the bed parts to make room.

“That took long enough,” Thor rumbles, sitting up to grasp Bruce’s arm and pull him forward. “I’ll have some of the same too, if you don’t mind.”

His knees hit the bed and he lets himself fall to the soft mattress on his side, right in between Steve and Thor, who immediately claims his mouth with a hungry kiss.

Up until now Bruce was a little too confused to really enjoy the experience, but he can feel his body taking over, a slow simmering of arousal in the pit of his stomach. It feels like fire.

A strong and steady hand at his shoulder slowly pulls him onto his back and he lets himself be turned, opening his lips to Thor’s insistent tongue. A moment later Bruce feels Steve’s breath against his cheek and a tongue sliding along the seams where he and Thor meet.

They part briefly to let Steve into their kiss and their tongues slide together, over lips and teeth, making Bruce groan deeply. This is the best sensation in the world and he’d kiss all of them at the same time if only he could.

He can feel Steve’s body shudder against his and hears Clint’s quietly triumphant laugh from the foot of the bed.

“See, I told you you make the most delicious noises.”

There are murmurs of approval all around and Bruce dimly wonders when he became the center of everyone’s attention.

Meanwhile, nimble fingers have picked up where Tony left off with his shirt buttons and it doesn’t take long until Thor manages to pull the shirt away from his body, revealing bare skin to his surprisingly hungry gaze. The predatory smile on his lips isn’t exactly reassuring.

“His pants next, Thor,” Steve mumbles from beside him, but Thor doesn’t comply immediately.

“There is something I must see to first,” he murmurs and leans forward to bury his face in Bruce’s chest hair.

“Oh, what…” Bruce sighs a little helplessly. He’s always been a little self-conscious about the thick mat of hair and would like to try and pull Thor’s head away a little, but all his fingers are capable of is burying themselves in the long strands of golden hair.

He will admit that the God of Thunder mouthing at his left nipple feels pretty brilliant and Steve uses the break in kissing to find a nice spot to suck on Bruce’s neck, just like Tony - that bastard is a genius when it comes to finding all his weak spots - showed them. A mouth on his neck never fails to make Bruce’s thought processes short-circuit. It’s embarrassing how his neck seems to be hard-wired to his dick.

In an attempt to re-focus, Bruce opens his eyes - he has no idea at what point he closed them - but his eyes land on Tony watching the three of them with a smug grin. Bruce lets his gaze follow Tony’s moving arm and finds that the engineer’s hand is currently buried in Clint’s bikini briefs, stroking an impressive bulge beneath the stretched fabric. Every time Tony’s hand slides upward Clint’s lips part on a gasp. There shouldn’t even be room in there for this much movement, but he’s damn talented with his hands. Bruce knows this from personal experience.

The memory makes his own pants tighten, even more so when he feels a hand sneaking up the inside of his thigh.

His gaze is drawn from Tony’s hand and meets Clint's eyes, burning with blue fire.

“Thought you were feeling a little lonely, Doc.”

Bruce snorts and looks around pointedly. How can a person feel lonely with this much attention focussed on him?

But the archer just shakes his head. “Not talking about just now.”

Oh. Right.

Maybe he was.

His train of thought doesn’t get any further than that, though, because Clint is leaning forward, abandoning his place next to Tony to deftly work on his zipper.

All of a sudden arousal catches up with Bruce. The four naked bodies all around him make it somewhat hard to focus.

“Don’t worry, I have a good idea of what you need right now,” the blond promises, grin growing wicked. 

“Should I be afraid?” Bruce gasps out, his hand raising to bury in Thor’s hair and pull him closer.

Clint just shakes his head. “Nah, nothing we haven't’ done before.”

That’s not exactly reassuring, considering the things they've tried. He remembers that one occasion where Tony started out fingering him and-

From out of nowhere there are lips on his, upside down - and yes, the bed is actually big enough for somebody to crawl up from behind Bruce - taking advantage of his open mouth. And yes, that is Tony kissing him so skilfully. He always tastes like strawberry and Bruce is suddenly ravenous for that sensation.

“Now he’s getting with the program,” Clint murmurs.

Somewhere down by his feet the archer gives a pleased gasp as he finally manages to draw the zipper of Bruce’s fly open.

“Again with the underwear, Doc,” he groans. And Bruce can’t help but smile a little. His lovers were so surprised the first time they discovered he prefers going commando.

“Hot as hell, just thinkin about it,” Tony quips beside them. “What do you think is the reason we so often end up fucking in the lab?”

“Tony-” Bruce tries to protest, but Steve leans in to still his protests with his mouth.

“Can’t really blame you, I saw him leaning over those benches,” the blonde man mumbles above him, hot breath caressing Bruce’s face. It makes Bruce shudder. Or maybe that is the fingers teasing at his pubic hair.

The movement makes Thor finally abandon his nipple and Bruce moans a little at the loss.

“Mh, it is a very pretty ass. Why don’t you show us?” Thor agrees, his voice raspy with arousal. Bruce loves that sound. He is not exactly sure if he’s addressing himself or Clint, who has begun pulling down his slacks inch by inch.

“There’s nothing pretty about my ass,” Bruce protests feebly, but obediently lifts his hips so the pants go a little easier.

“No,” Tony agrees, trying to get in between him and Thor.

Ah, Bruce thinks, honesty. Finally.

“It is actually a work of art,” Clint finishes the sentence.

The hums of agreement make heat rise in his face once more. “Stop talking shit, Barton, and get to work,” he grouses from beneath crossed arms.

“Just tellin’ it as I see it, Doc,” Clint gives back. “I’m sure our resident artist agrees.”

And that is unfair, bringing Steve into this discussion. Bruce can see him nod and a moment later the imposing figure of Captain America is leaning over him.

“I might need a second look, though.” Steve gives him a boyish grin Bruce sees through the spaces between his fingers. “Just to be sure!”

Strong hands push him over, then, and Bruce doesn’t protest. He ends up lying half on top of Tony somehow, which is not exactly unpleasant, considering he can now easily hide his face in the other man’s neck and simultaneously watch the billionaire pleasure Thor’s impressive erection.

Broad palms find his ass, kneading both cheeks gently but firmly and Bruce can’t help the involuntary movement back against the competent touch. God, he loves this, loves having hands on him, having his ass played with, even if he’ll never admit it out loud.

But then, it doesn’t look like he needs to. His lovers know exactly what turns him on. 

“Yeah, work of art is just about accurate,” Steve finally agrees and adds: “I say just about because no work of art is as nice and warm as naked skin.”

Bruce lets his eyes fall shut and decides to just enjoy what he is given. He can draw back as soon as the attention returns to one of the more perfect male specimens sharing the bed with him.

But his bedmates seem to be entirely focussed on him. Tony’s arm wraps around his shoulders while Steve is leaning across him to nibble on the nape of his neck again, drawing involuntary shudders from him. And Steve is spreading his cheeks, opening Bruce up to their gazes.

The lube-slick finger against his hole still comes as a surprise and he sucks in air with a sharp hiss. Tony’s arm tightens around him immediately. 

“Just relax,” he murmurs against his hair. “We’re gonna give you exactly what you need.”

Yeah, he thinks, sure. But then, he has four very considerate lovers and none of them has ever been left wanting, as far as he can tell, so he has no reason to doubt Tony’s words.

Especially since Clint’s finger is stretching him so good. God, the man knows what he is doing, pushing in with a powerful steady pressure that burns but doesn't hurt. Just like Bruce wants it.

He can’t help but raise his hips some to shove back against the invading digit, but Steve isn’t having it. He pushes down firmly, holding him in place. 

Bruce doesn’t protest. He can’t. Clint’s finger is slightly callused in the spot where his bowstring usually rests and that roughness is pushing against his inner walls perfectly right now, making him groan.

It doesn’t take long for the slight burn to recede and Bruce immediately craves more.

Above him Tony chuckles, his whole chest vibrating against Bruce. “I think he’s plenty relaxed now. Why don’t you try a second one?”

Yes, he thinks, please, but instead of giving him more, Clint withdraws completely. Bruce groans with frustration.

“Be right back,” Clint reassures him and Bruce can feel the bed give when the blond man gets up. He is left feeling empty until Steve lets his fingers move inward to brush against the edges of his hole.

God, it shouldn’t feel so good, he shouldn’t enjoy this so much, being spread open before these men, practically begging to be filled, but he can’t help it. They’ve effectively shut down rational thinking.

“Tony, where did you put the good stuff?” Clint asks from a few feet away and Bruce is wondering just what he is looking for.

But then he’s back and that finger too, along with two others and Bruce lets out a moan at the stretch and the fullness and yes, maybe he’s a bit of a size queen, but this feels so so good. He can feel Tony smile into his hair and finally lifts his head to take in his friend’s face. The look he discovers is pure, raw desire.

“You’re serious,” he states as belief slowly claws its way into his lust-fogged brain.

Their eyes meet and after a long moment of just looking into Bruce’s eyes Tony nods.

Well, Bruce thinks with what little brain capacity he has left between Clint’s insistent fingering and Tony’s hungry gaze, he might as well roll with it. He simply can’t fight against all four of them and expect to win.

A wave of pleasure rolls through him as Clint’s knuckles brush against his prostate and this time Bruce doesn’t suppress the moan that wants to burst out of his chest. No, he thinks, this, this right here - Steve’s hands on his skin, Clint knuckle deep inside his ass and Tony's warm chest beneath his cheek -feels a lot like winning.

***

The noises Clint draws from Bruce send spikes of electricity all through Tony’s body and make pleasure pool hot in the pit of his stomach. And a little lower maybe, if he counts the erection that is pressing against now painfully tight shorts.

Bruce has finally gone pliant against him. He runs a hand across the dark-haired man’s back to test for tense muscles but there are none. Perfect. 

He throws Clint a cheeky grin and a nod. Of course the archer had understood the plan immediately and gone right for the good lube. He is currently working a fourth finger into Bruce’s already very stretched hole and the man lying half on top of his chest is practically begging for more.

The expression on Clint’s face is one of intense concentration. Tony knows that look. He wants to know how far he can push Bruce. But Tony isn’t worried. The blond man with the killer bicep knows exactly when to stop.

But he won’t be reaching Bruce’s limit for a while yet.

The insistent hard-on pressing against him draws his attention. Bruce is aroused as hell and with that arousal comes a certain muscle resistance that might be a bit much for Clint to break through at the moment.

What Bruce needs to relax enough for phase two of their plan is a good orgasm.

Tony withdraws his hand from Thor’s shorts with an apologetic twist of his wrist that makes the demigod gasp. He’ll gladly offer his ass to him later to make up for his lack of attention, but they’ll all take care of Bruce first.

Now he has both arms free to wrap around Bruce completely, to rest on his hips and caress his sides. “Brucey,” he whispers into the already sweat-damp curls, but earns no reaction beyond a breathless gasp that makes him smile. 

“Brucey,” he tries again, aided with a well-aimed thrust of his hips. “You wanna come?”

What a question, of course he does. And Tony is just the man to talk him through it

Quite literally so.

Because Tony noticed a little something that turns Bruce on - beyond the obvious, of course. He hasn’t told the others yet, but they’re sure to catch on quickly.

This time Bruce shifts his head and his eyes flash green at Tony through the curtain of dark curls.

“You’re doing so good,” Tony tries. He feels a shudder run across the broad back beneath his hands, sees his eyes close in pleasure.

Oh yes, this might just work. 

“Stunning.” The whisper is just loud enough for the guys around them to catch it.

Clint is the first to get it as he is the one currently most focussed on Bruce’s reaction. “How good you stretch around my fingers.” He times his words perfectly with a twist of said fingers inside Bruce and a slide of his thumb across Bruce’s perineum.

That’s all it takes for Bruce to lose control. He jerks against Tony's leg with a gasp and Tony can feel the wetness spread across his skin.

His arms never let go of the other man as he tenses up and then goes slack.

From Bruce’s other side Steve reaches out to run a hand into their lover’s hair. “Thank you,” he smiles and another shudder wracks the now relaxed frame.

This is where the real work starts. Steve produces a towel from somewhere which Clint arranges between Bruce’s spread legs. He slowly pulls out his fingers and none of them can hide their smile at Bruce’s protesting whine.

“Don’t worry big guy, we’re not done here yet. We’re gonna make you fly.”

***

Bruce’s body is still humming pleasantly from the orgasm he’s just had and he isn’t actually in the mood to move, since he’s finally experiencing the closeness he’s been craving all day. He should probably get out of the way, though, and let his lovers enjoy each other.

At Clint’s steady reassurance Bruce lifts his head to look at him in confusion. “‘S alright, I’m good,” he sighs and tries to extricate himself from the tangle of naked limbs. But Tony is right there, holding onto him. “We can make you feel even better,” the engineer practically purrs.

“Really, it’s okay,” he protests weakly, but he is clearly lacking the energy to fight against all the hands that are suddenly stroking his slightly sweaty skin and holding him in place.

“What, you wanna ruin all my fun, now that I’ve opened you up so nicely?” Clint actually pouts while he says it and Bruce grows still.

“Oh, sorry.” Bruce nearly groans at his own stupidity. Clint wants to fuck him and, to be honest, he can totally get with the program, even though he’s just come. Having one of his lovers inside him is always better when he still rides the waves of arousal, but he still enjoys this amazing feeling of intimacy every time one of them fucks him.

So Bruce settles against Tony’s warmth again, spreading his legs slightly, so that his own thigh is pressed against the playboy’s insistent hard-on, and waits for Clint to continue.

Before he can close his eyes, though, Thor is right there, pressing insistent kisses against his lips. Seems like his active participation is still appreciated tonight. The demigod coaxes his lips open with skillful swipes of his tongue and soon has Bruce so distracted that he actually gasps when something brushes his already stretched hole.

But the touch is not what he expected. Instead of Clint’s hard cock, again there is a well-lubed finger teasing against his rim that makes him gasp into Thor’s mouth.

He should protest, he’s already well stretched from Clint’s earlier ministrations, no need for him to wait longer, he can just drive in and fill Bruce the way he wants to feel right now. His protests are greedily swallowed by Thor.

“You want more?” A voice whispers into his hair. Bruce can only nod.

“Look how hungry he is.”

That was Steve. Embarrassment settles hot in his cheeks and in the pit of his stomach, but he gets no chance to react, as just that moment the first finger is joined by three more, gently stretching like they were before.

“Don’t worry, I’ll feed you.”

Tony’s groan makes his chest rumble beneath Bruce’s head. “Can we stop with the bad puns, please? I’m less and less inclined to let any of you near my cock with your dirty mouths ever again!”

It nearly makes him laugh in turn and forget all about the embarrassment. As if Tony would ever turn down a blowjob.

The tension is broken for the moment and Bruce is really getting into the feeling of Clint’s knuckles rubbing across his sensitive prostate, when there is even more pressure against already stretched skin.

Is that really a fifth finger?

He opens his eyes and detaches himself from Thor’s lips to look behind him, where indeed Clint is working on him with both hands now. “What the… oH!”

The blond looks up in time to catch him staring and flashes him a confident grin. “Don’t worry, Doc. I’ve got you. Steve, I need more lube.”

The muscles of his neck are straining, but Bruce can’t turn his head to look away. Instead he watches as Steve reaches for a well-used tube of lube and squeezes some onto the fingers Clint is working in and out of him gently but firmly.

It feels amazing. There are five fucking fingers in him now and the stretch is unbelievable. They slide in and out smoothly in a rhythm that matches his breath and it is too fast and too slow at the same time, too much and not enough.

A moan rises in his chest, unbidden, and his hands wander across the sheet to find something to hold onto until they find other hands, Thor’s and Tony’s he thinks, but he can’t be exactly sure and honestly he doesn’t even care, because Clint’s thumb is pressing against his perineum again.

“Oh god!”

“Clint’s fine, Doc,” the blond man teases, a pleased smile curving his lips upwards, but the joke is entirely lost on Bruce right now.

“What the hell are you doing?” There’s pressure on his prostate from inside and outside now and Bruce feels his cock twitch and firm up, while the rest of his body stays curiously pliant under the stroking hands.

“Giving you just what you need.”

It takes a moment until his brain processes what Clint just said and it takes even longer for Bruce to form a reply to that pretty arrogant statement.

“How do you know… what I need?” the last part of the sentence is pushed out of him in a sharp exhale, because Clint just twisted the fingers inside him abruptly.

“Your body is very good at giving hints,” the blond laughs quietly. “Look at how beautifully it takes my fingers. I’m sure you could take my whole hand.”

And Bruce can’t say no. He doesn’t want to. Instead he groans and spreads his legs and can do nothing but hope that Clint knows what he’s doing. Because he really wants this.

“Please.” His voice is hoarse and muffled by Tony’s chest as he says it and he isn’t even sure the hearing-impaired man even understood him, but then there is a soft, wet kiss on the inside of his thigh and another and another and he can’t seem to stop shuddering.

A reassuring hand settles at the small of his back, steadying his fluttering heart somewhat. Bruce closes his eyes.

“More lube, Steve,” Clint orders and pulls out the single digit of his second hand. The pressure is gone and then there again very abruptly as he folds his thumb in with the rest of his fingers and starts pushing, steadily, firmly, slowly.

The pressure is like nothing Bruce has ever experienced. It burns, it aches, it feels unbelievable and it’s only getting worse but at the same time it’s so good that it leaves him gasping for breath desperately.

“So good for me,” Clint breathes behind him. “Nearly there.”

A violent shudder runs through him and he can't keep his eyes open against the blinding lights sparking in front of him.

And with one more push the intense pressure is gone. Clint gasps audibly and Bruce can feel the archer’s arm muscles relax inside him.

“Oh god,” he moans again, he just can’t help it.

“Okay?” The gentle voice is nearly inaudible through the rushing in his ears and a nod is all he can manage.

His hand scrambbles for purchase, anything to hold him, anything to keep him grounded, because Bruce is floating despite the amazing heaviness inside him. He is hot in Tony's embrace, yet shaking almost violently. 

“Please,” he breathes, again and again, not really sure if he’s asking for more, less, stop, it doesn’t matter. The desperate noises accompanying his words are embarrassing but he couldn’t stop them if he tried. “Please!”

A soft caress to the inside of his thigh draws a sigh from him. “Shhh, no begging,” Clint whispers, his voice calming, steady. “Just tell me what you need.”

Bruce would laugh if he had enough air. He is sweating, moaning, shaking, he is hard as a rock, he is held in the firm cradle of his lovers’ arms, he isn’t sure how to survive this. But he wants it, all of it. All they are willing to give. All the caresses and the attention and all the touches. He eats them up and they fill him up so good and make him complete.

Right now there’s only one thing he wants. 

“Damnit, just fuck me already!”

***

Clint can’t hold back a snort of laughter at Bruce’s outburst. It looks like the usually so reserved physicist is finally in the right state of mind for their play.

It’s been awhile since Clint has done this to another person and he marvels at the feeling of his hand so tightly encased in silken heat. 

While he’d stretched Bruce, his own erection had waned some. Taking somebody this far is hard work, he needs to control his muscles, control the angle, push and pull with just the right force. Sweat has been gathering on his forehead and running into his eyes and lube is covering most of his arm and chest, but this feeling, that growl, goes right to his cock.

This is why he loves doing it. It’s so crazy intimate and the trust Bruce is showing him is heady, making him high.

His fingers draw along Bruce’s inner wall, stroking him and making him shudder inside and out.

Yeah, this is good stuff.

He does it again, making Bruce keen with arousal.

From behind Steve is now leaning over his shoulder to get a closer look. “That looks hot. Painful but hot.”

He turns a little, smiling reassuringly at the man beside him, before refocusing. “Hey Bruce, you doin’ okay?”

He strokes his hand again, his fingers lightly brushing across the small prostate gland, and the noise this draws is pure pleasure.

“Good.”

And the noise that word earns him is even better.

He’s caught onto Tony’s game quickly. The good doctor apparently has a bit of a kink there. And it’s no hardship for Clint to come up with positive things to say, especially since Bruce is looking so deliciously wrecked. 

Further up on the bed Tony is craning his neck to get a better look at things, but Bruce is pinning him to the bed and Clint is not going to let them move now.

“I need more slick,” he orders and holds out his hand for the fresh tube Steve is grabbing from the nightstand. 

“More?” the blond asks, curious. “You’re both practically dripping with it.”

“Believe me,” Clint replies. “There is no such thing as too much lube when you have your whole hand inside a guy.”

This makes Thor and Tony snicker and Bruce groan and wiggle his hips.

“And just where do you think you’re going? There, that’s better,” he adds as Bruce settles back down.

It wouldn’t do for Bruce to hurt himself. Time for some action.

He reaches out for Tony’s hand resting at Bruce's hip and pulls it towards him. Slowly, carefully he guides the lax fingers to where his wrist disappears into Bruce. 

“Just touch, no pressure,” he orders and watches the playboy’s eyes go wide. The stretch is extraordinary, the skin beneath his fingertips hot and pulsing and so, so sensitive.

Thor leans forward to swallow the whimper Bruce produces at the intimate touch.

Good, he needs some distraction for the next part.

Slowly, one by one, Clint folds his fingers against his palm. Bruce’s body is moving constantly, undulating around him, shivering, shuddering, thrusting, but no violent movements that he would have to put a stop to. Tony brushes his fingertips against Clint’s wrist and the sensation makes him shudder. 

With his free hand he grasps the lube again and squeezes most of the freshly opened tube across his arm. The slick is running down his skin to drip onto the towel that can barely contain so much fluid. Hah, Clint loves ruining Tony’s outrageously expensive bed sheets and the billionaire probably does too, when it results in well-fucked and blissed-out teammates to take care of.

Yeah, Clint can see right through the public persona Iron Man wears like a second mask. Beneath all the egocentric, aloof bullshit Tony is a nurturer. He craves wrecking each one of his lovers with lust just as much as taking care of them afterwards. And he’s so good at it too. 

Good thing for Bruce, because after this kind of treatment he won’t be able to sit down for days.

Despite all the lube it’s still not an easy slide, as he pushes his fist forward in a slow but steady movement.

Bruce’s hoarse shout draws the other guys’ attention. “Easy, big guy,” he soothes and keeps pushing, then pulling back until his wrist stretches Bruce’s rim. And with each pass he drags his knuckles right across his prostate.

Bruce loves a good fuck, he can take it hard and deep when he is in the mood for it, but Clint is pretty sure he’s never had it quite that hard or that deep before. And yet his body is practically begging for more, he is rock-hard against Tony’ leg and desperate to come.

But Clint takes his time. This is a treat, the reward for his hard work, to feel his partner fall apart around his hand, and he is determined to enjoy every one of his usually so quiet lover’s shouts.

On and on he pushes and watches as Bruce’s skin starts to glisten with sweat until he is sure Bruce must be ready to burst.

“So good,” he murmurs quietly. “So beautiful. If only you could see yourself.”

“Clint!”

He nearly misses the syllable of his name shouted among hoarse cries for more, please, everything.

“I’m right here with you. Wouldn’t wanna miss it.”

His words are totally doing it for Bruce, he can see the already tight balls drawing up beneath his wrist.

“Come for me, let me see…”

All it takes is a flick of his wrist and Bruce is gone.

The man spread open before him pushes his head back, eyes staring blindly, mouth open in a silent scream, as he empties himself against the sheets and Tony’s skin. And Clint keeps pushing, pushing his orgasm right out of him until a desperate sob stills his hand.

The body around him feels absolutely boneless and while Clint would like nothing more than just take himself in hand and follow Bruce to Nirvana, he still has more work to do.

As soon as the high wears off, having a hand in your anus can get pretty uncomfortable and so he starts the slow process of uncurling his fingers and working more lube around the puffy and tender flesh of Bruce’s hole, until he is able to pull the broadest part of his palm through and his fingers out.

With a sigh, Clint falls onto his back on the bed and closes his eyes. He is hard and aching and exhausted and immensely pleased with himself. All he wants right now is get off quick and easy to the memory of Bruce’s tightness around his wrist.

It only takes a few tugs with his still well-lubed hand and a dirty kiss from Steve to send him over the edge.

Bruce is shifting again, the afterglow starting to wear off, and that is Clint’s sign to get him in a shower and put to bed, before the adrenalin rush abates and makes him crash.

Tiredly he rolls over, wipes his stained hand on the already ruined bedsheet and runs a hand along his lover’s prone form. 

“Come on, Doc, you need a shower and a flat surface.”

The other man just growls and doesn’t move, but that is not an option.

Beneath Bruce Tony winces. “I think at this point we’re literally glued together.”

“All the more reason,” Clint replies firmly. “You’ll both thank me in the morning. And you’ve been lying on your back long enough,” he adds. 

It’s a team effort to get a pretty uncooperative Bruce off the bed and standing, aided on both sides by Thor and Steve.

“He can barely stand,” the demigod remarks with a worried glance at his lover.

Clint just grins. “If he’d still be able to stand I wouldn't have done a proper job.”

Together they manage to maneuver Bruce into the shower and under a hot spray, kept upright because at this point sitting is not an option. It’s a good thing there are so many helping hands to wash off come and sweat and lube.

Clint waits for the others to finish up before he cleans himself off. 

When he returns to the bedroom somebody has already changed the sheets. He turns around when he sees Natasha enter the room.

“Hey.”

“What did you do to him?” she asks, signing and speaking simultaneously, nodding towards where Steve and Thor helping an exhausted Bruce up on the bed. He can’t tell from her voice, but her expression isn't accusing, just curious.

“How did you gather this is my fault?” he jokes back, teasing a smile out of Natasha.

“The others don’t exactly have that glow you two do,” she replies, “so that wasn’t really hard to get wrong. And now spit it out.”

He glows? Huh. An embarrassed smile tugs at his lips as he raises his fist and wriggles it in the air. “And that doesn't mean I punched him. 

“Kinda feels like it,” Bruce interjects, his voice hoarse from all the shouting, but he doesn’t seem to be all that put out. If Clint did his job right their lover will be riding that high for days.

Natasha gives Bruce a fond look and shakes her head.

“Thanks for changing the sheets,” Clint says, pulling her close.

“Gotta take care of my guys,” she replies. “Besides, I wasn’t in the mood to sleep in the wet spot.”

At her deadpan expression Clint can't help his pleased grin. “Looks like we should put on some clothes, guys.”

That earns a groan from Bruce, who is trying to get settled comfortably on the bed and giving a good impression of a fish out of water in the process. 

“Nah, you’re good, big guy,” Clint calms him with a look at Natasha. She just waves him to go ahead. She actually doesn't mind skin to skin contact, welcomes it even, but the six of them still agreed early on to wear at least shorts to bed so as to not make Natasha unnecessarily uncomfortable.

So they all willingly get up once more to don some shorts that they keep in Tony’s bedroom for just that purpose, except for Bruce, who is now trying to roll over onto his back, a grimace marring his forehead.

Tony is standing next to the bed watching his lover with a displeased expression that makes it clear he has no idea how to make him more comfortable. Due to the respiratory problems caused by the arc reactor, the engineer can’t lie on his back for more than an hour and therefore can't be Bruce’s pillow for tonight. 

“Whoa there, babe. Not a good idea,” Clint says firmly and crawls onto the bed with Bruce. “Don’t worry, I’ve got a plan.”

He lies down next to him and pulls the exhausted and still twitching body close to him. Bruce groans and slings a leg over Clint’s thigh.

“Better?” He asks with a soft kiss to the freshly cleaned mop of curls on his shoulder. “Now all that’s missing is your blanket.”

Tony immediately catches on and rolls across the mattress to lay down against Bruce’s back with a content sigh.

Bruce calms instantly.

As soon as Clint rests his head on the pillow, exhaustion overtakes him and he blinks several times to stay awake at least until everybody is settled. A sheet settles over them and the bed to his right dips until he feels Natasha snuggle against him, claiming his other shoulder as her pillow.

This is it. This is good. Natasha gives Bruce a kiss goodnight across Clint’s chest, making the big guy smile tiredly. He gets his own kiss, too, and watches Thor settle close to Natasha and Steve flank Tony.

Finally his eyes slip closed, cutting off the world around him and all that is left is the feeling of his lovers’ warm bodies pressed tightly around him, breathing against him, safe and whole.

It’s a beautiful feeling to fall asleep to.

***

end

**Author's Note:**

> Hope you enjoyed this little piece of smut! If so, why don't you come visit me on [tumblr](http://harvestingstorm.tumblr.com/) or leave a comment or kudos? I'd really aprecciate it!


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